Burning House
by photopokie
Summary: Steve and Natasha go on a simple mission to Russia that blows up. literally. Because nothing ever goes well with these two...follow them as they go from team mates to friends to maybe something more. and find out a little about Natasha's past. Romanogers with Clint friendship.
1. Chapter 1

First story so far! I do not own anything marvel or anything in regards to marvel. Go easy on me, Im not sure what I'm doing.

Chapter 1: Teammates.

Natasha did not want to go on another mission. She was still tired from the one she had just gotten back from. _The night before._ But seeing as though she had a certain amount of responsibility towards SHIELD, she decided to put on her big girl pants and go to the debriefing. She also wanted to use this mission as leverage to take a much needed vacation.

She dressed in casual attire. Tank top, light coat, and jeans with knee high boots. Her red hair was down which she preferred. When she arrived in the conference room she was five minutes late. She was greeted by Fury and Steve who stopped talking to stare at her; neither decided to wait for her to start the meeting. She would catch up later. "Morning"

"Good afternoon Romanoff, decide to sleep in?."

"I knew Steve is always 15 minutes early to these things so I thought I would take my time." she gave a wink and a smirk to Roger as she spoke who tried and failed to hide a smile.

Steve always had an issue with his troops purposely disobeying orders or timelines. But with Natasha? He always just knew that she understood everything that was going on around her at all times. She never skipped a beat. And he also kind of like how rebellious she was to the Director of SHIELD because he would never have the guts to do such a thing.

"Well then I guess I can leave the gaps up to Rogers to fill you in on."

The meeting lasted longer than it probably should have because of Steve's constant questions. Natasha spent her time relaxing in her chair looking out the window or picking at her nails, glancing at a certain soldier. Although her sight was on other things, her hearing was focused 110%. the mission was simple, she wasn't sure why Rogers had to ask so many questions. Rogers was wearing dark jeans with a shirt that was of course a few sizes too small, and a pair of new nikes. She made a note to compliment his new style later.

The task: Go to Russia to take back an item that was stolen from SHIELD. The item was considered valuable, but not a level 1 priority. Fury had mentioned that it was one of Starks original experiments that were confiscated by SHIELD for precautionary measures. In other words, Stark accidentally made another dangerous weapon or robot or something.

"You both leave in 4 hours and expect full completion of this mission in 3 days. Understood?"

"Yes sir." Rogers said without a salute which he grew out of doing just recently.

"Romanoff?"

" 3 days. Got it." She will admit that her brain did wander off for a minute or two.

"You excited for our mission?" Rogers came up beside Natasha in the hall way. "This is my first one in two months."

she had almost forgotten that he was out on medical leave after his last mission had gone wrong and left him with a broken leg, punctured lung and a concussion. She visited him a couple of times to fill him in on the reports from the mission. But this was the first time she has seen him in a couple weeks. Its odd having a super soldier as a team member. After all he suffered from that battle, he was up and on another mission in just a month.

"Natasha?"

"Probably not as excited as you are seeing as though your'e back after a month of relaxing." she gave him that same smirk.

"Relaxing? Last time I checked having broken bones and internal bleeding did not count as 'relaxing'." He walked with her out to the parking lot where they went their separate ways for the next couple hours to gather their things.


	2. Chapter 2

As always I do not own anything Marvel.

Chapter 2

She spent her few hours relaxing on the couch because her things were still packed from the previous mission. She sipped on a cup of coffee and decided to read up on the mission report. She found it somewhat reassuring that she would be going with captain America to Russia. If it couldn't be clint, then she was happy it could be Rogers. She thought to herself a small joke about traveling to a country that dislikes America, with the one man who seems to bleed the American dream. Her phone beside her started buzzing and without looking, knew it was clint.

" _Ready for your mission with spangles?"_ She read.

" _Id rather keep this workout up at the gym. You know I can lift as much as you now?"_

A few minutes passed with no response.

" _Your sitting you lazy butt on the couch huh..."_

She smiled to herself silently. It never surprised her that Clint knew her way better than anyone ever would. Clint and her had a bond that could never be broken. They were best friends.

" _You feelin ok about this?"_

She knew what he was referring to. The mission. Not just the mission, but Russia. She has gone back since her childhood, multiple times. But not once without Clint. Fury knew they (she) would come back alive if they went together.

" _Yes Clint, Its a quick mission. I can be back in a day or two."_

" _You know they only sent him because I decided to be nice to the guy since he got hurt."_

" _Fury sent Rogers because you are an idiot and got shot in the leg last week."_

" _Not nice Romanoff." she laughed at herself, "Arent you supposed to be on your way to Russia?"_

She couldn't remember how long she sat on the couch for. She looked to her apartment room clock and jumped to the floor. She set her coffee on the coffee table, grabbed her bag and left for SHIELD base.

On the car ride, she took a quick look at her phone and read Clints last text.

" _lost track of time again huh... be safe Nat, remember, two days"_

Half way to the base she looked at the clock in her car and realized Clint had tricked her into thinking she was late, but she was actually 30 minutes early. _Bastard._

Steves Pov

He left Natasha at the parking lot to go pack. He was excited to work with Natasha. To be honest, he was excited to work with anyone. He knew Natasha would be the best person for this assignment because it was in her home country. She would know what to do and how to go about things. She looked tired. He figured it was because of her very recent last mission that had her awake for more than a whole day. As he arrived at his apartment, he took his time packing, making sure he had everything he needed. He noticed he was almost out of tooth paste and decided to stop buy the store. You can never be too careful with things like toiletries when traveling.

He stopped by the local coffee shop and got a cup to go, then headed off to the store.

As he walked down the aisles he admitted to himself that he was overwhelmed by the amount of things this store had. He stopped to look at a travelers pillow that you can use while sitting up. He decided to get it for Natasha because she had seemed tired when they left each other, and she doesn't seem like one who takes cat naps before missions.

He found travel sized tooth paste and checked his watch. If he left now, he would be 30 minutes early. _Perfect._

Steve walked into the jet and was surprised to see Natasha already there waiting on the side seats reading a book.

"Old age catching up to you?" She said without looking up.

"I happen to be early, why did you get here already?"

When she looked up from her book, she met his eyes. She had a small smirk on her face. "Barton broke into my apartment and changed my clocks." she stood to put her bags in the compartments, and he did the same thing. They were shoulder to shoulder.

He looked puzzled. "Breaking an entering to change clocks? Wait, Barton? I thought he was on break from his leg wound."

She didnt seem too fazed at his confusion. She stopped in the middle of zipping up her bag "Thats nothing. I once saw the guy lead an entire team to evac a burning warehouse before it exploded. His arm was broken, concussion, punctured lungs, the works."

"Thats pretty impressive."

"Im not to the impressive part." She gave him a knowing smile. "He went back into the building to save a stray dog that had gotten stuck from debris. I remember him wheezing and limping away from this burning building. As it exploded, he fell to the grass next to where I was."

Steve was definitely impressed. He stood in awe as he watched her eyes. Her eyes didn't meet his. They were distant in memory. She was smiling just barely. A moment went by when he decided to speak.

"What happened to the dog?"

She snapped out of her day dream. She looked him in the eyes. Her expression and gone from relaxed and lovely to that typical stone cold face of the Black Widow.

"It died." she said as she zipped up her bag, turned and walked further into the jet and sat back at her previous spot.

He was not expecting that answer. He stood there for a second digesting the story. In silence he continued adjusting his luggage till everything fit and he took his seat next to Natasha.

A few hours into the flight, Steve was reading a magazine. He noticed Natasha starting to sway. He looked at her and realized she was trying and failing to sleep.

"I got you something." He said as he walked to his bag and started to unzip it.

She watched him in silence with glaring eyes.

He found the traveling pillow he had bought earlier that day and handed it over.

She looked at it without reaching to grab it. "What is that?"

"Its a pillow."

"You bought me a pillow?"

"You seemed tired earlier, and I was at the store and thought it might help." He smiled

A moment hung in the air and he finally said, "You don't have to take it, I was just trying to be nice."

He set it down in the seat and took his spot once again beside her. He went back to reading his magazine.

20 minutes later he looked up from his reading and saw Natasha using the pillow letting out the most silent of snores.


	3. Chapter 3

Once again, I do not own anything Marvel.

Chapter 3.

It had been almost two hours since they landed in Russia. It was of course snowing heavily and the two agents were walking down the side walk of an old sleepy town. The Shield jet had to drop them off in a field so they would not be detected, therefore they had to walk into town.

It was pitch black outside and even though the streets and sidewalks were plowed, there was a good 5 inches of snow building up. The occasional street light was the only source of visibility, but one being a super soldier, and the other a trained assassin, both were able to see and hear quite well in the storm.

They arrived at their hotel after what seemed like an eternity. The room had a distinct smell of cigarets and damp walls. It had one small bed, couch and a t.v. which only had one channel. They figured asking for a room with one bed concealed any suspicions so people would take them as a couple on vacation. They were exhausted and decided to take their turns in the shower, Natasha went first of course. And without so much as a word, they both turned in for the night.

Natasha didn't remember the last time she had a dream. Being in her line of work, she was trained to always be ready for anything and everything. She laid on her cold bed; hair still damp from her shower; listening to a not so subtle sound coming from Captain Snores-a-lot who was sprawled out on the ground. She offered to give him the bed, but he had insisted saying something about the army and soft beds. She lay in the in between state of asleep and awake until she decided to give up on sleep all together. She walked across the room, stepping over the knocked out soldier, and stood to peek out of the dirty curtains. She was careful to not move the fabric in case anyone may be watching their hide out.

The clock read 3:27 a.m.

She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her when she saw something move. The hair on her neck stood up and she caught her breath in her chest. She narrowed her eyes to try and see past the street light that buzzed right outside their room, a few torturous seconds drug on and what she believed was an enemy, came a black cat from the shadows. She instantly let out her captured breath and relaxed.

"See something?"

She immediately pulled out a small knife from a very well hidden spot of her night gown and swung it in the direction of the voice. It was dark in the room, but she knew exactly where to aim. She stopped the blade within milometers of Steve Rogers jugular.

He stammered back a couple feet and put his hands up in surrender. She had no idea how long he had been awake, let alone standing behind her.

"Whoa Natasha! Its me! Relax!" He was gathering himself, standing back up, but keeping his hands somewhat raised.

She stood unmoving with the blade still in the air. She was breathing heavily and was staring wide eyed at Steve in horror.

"Steve... what were you thinking? I could have killed you!" her voice had a slight shake to it but she gathered herself pretty well for the amount of stress she was under from almost killing Americas pride and joy. Lowering her blade, but not dropping it because lets face it, Black Widow was never unarmed, she took a step back.

"I heard you get up... I was wondering what you were checking on." He lowered his hands to his sides and stood tall again. Steves broad frame towering before her made her feel so small. "Are you okay? You seem stressed." his voice calm and unafraid at what had just happened. At that point, he didnt seem like Captain America. He seemed like a concerned friend. "You couldnt sleep huh." He said that as if he could read her like Clint could. But that was impossible. Right?

Talking to him was strange. She hated the way she felt obligated to answer any and all of his questions. Even in the darkness of their room, she could see those blue eyes were stuck to hers begging her to speak. His hair was flat and sticking up all at the same time from the multiple positions he held while sleeping like a rock. She broke eye contact several times, but kept looking back at those unfaltering baby blues.

"Im fine Rogers. You just snuck up on me." she moved passed him to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. The truth? She was a little on edge. This was the first time being in Russia without her one and _only_ partner. She dried her face and looked at herself in the mirror. She was a little sleepy looking. Her red hair was starting to curl from air drying. Her eyes were tinged pink from being awake way passed a normal amount, even for her. She promised herself years ago when Barton had "rescued" her from this place that she would never go back. Unless with Clint. Barton swore to her that he would protect her from any demons that came from her past. Granted she could take care of herself, but it was comforting to take some weight off her shoulders when it came to her childhood. And he has never let her down so far.

So now she was here. Without her best friend there to chase away the shadows. She was there with none other than _Spangles._ And the crazy part about it is that she still felt at ease with him there instead of Clint. And she did not know how to handle that.

She walked out of the bathroom and saw Steve peeking out the window just as she had moments before.

"See something?" she said cooly, knowing he wouldn't have a knife let alone even be possible to sneak up on. He didnt say anything. Standing with his back turned to her acting almost as a statue, he put his hand up signaling to be quiet which triggered her assassin mind set. She obeyed and appeared at the window in complete silence looking out the slits in the fabric. She strained her eyes but saw nothing. "What is it?" she whispered so low that someone without super hearing might not have heard. At that point, Steve jerked a little. "Did I startle the great Captain America?"

"Your'e so quiet... didn't hear you come up..." she smiled with that same crooked smile she always had when she knew she had "one upped" someone.

A couple second passed and he finally relaxed. "Just a cat I guess. No big deal. I thought I saw a shine, but I guess it was just the cats eyes. I feel sorry for the guy, stuck out there in the cold." he went back to the make shift bed on the floor and tried to cover his tall build with an ugly knitted quilt.

"Hey...I'm..Im sorry for... You know, almost killing you." Apologizing was not one of Natashas strong suites. She also headed back to her bed.

"Its ok. You are tired, it happens." he struggled with his blanket. "Get some sleep, we have a big day ahead of us in," He checked his watch. 4:16, "Ugh 44 minutes..." he slammed his arm against his head dramatically while he lay on the floor and within minutes, was snoring again.

She laughed at him and decided it would be beneficial to her to try and actually sleep.

She started to feel herself drift when she heard a faint click. A few seconds went by and she heard another. Then another. Steves snoring had died down which means he heard it too. She slightly opened one eye to take in her surroundings. They were still in the dirty hotel room. Still alone. For now. She glanced at eh clock and it was almost time for them to start their day. But it seems like they were starting earlier than planned. She saw Steve reach under her bed for his shield, still pretending to sleep. She she did the same, but finding the gun she stashed under her pillow. She noticed rogers looking at her and rolled his eyes at the fact she kept yet another weapon so close to her while she slept.

The click at the door happened a fourth time telling them both that the intruder had now successfully unlocked the door. All at once the door burst open letting in the freezing air and a group of men covered in white from head to toe. These people must have known that their entrance was not so subtle, because they shot a smoke grenade into the room and it immediately gave the men coverage from their targets. _Big mistake._ Steve and Natasha started shooting and jumping out of bed.

Steve threw his shield and heard a loud grunt from a couple of his unknown target. The men shouted things in Russian [[ _Shoot them! Do not kill them! We need them alive!_ ]] He couldn't see how many men there were, but from the amount of voices he heard, he guessed at least 11. He kept moving so that the enemies had a harder time in pointing his location. He secretly loved how inexperienced these guys were. A smoke bomb? Really? Yes it is for good cover, but in a pitch dark room, with the two most deadly target one could choose, was a terrible idea. He used their tactics against them, using the smoke as coverage instead of chaos. He swished his shield around like a large fan so the smoke was covering the men instead of he and his partner.

Seeing Rogers move the flow of the smoke in their advantage, she found the gernade and kicked it into the group of men who were now shouting in panic instead of anger. It grew harder to breathe and see. Shots rang out and only the light from their gun could be seen in the smoke. Natasha used that tiny bit of light to shoot at the shadows created by the millisecond of flash from a gun going off. Her points were all met with thuds hitting the ground.

After the battle, the smoke began to spud out and Natasha kicked it out of the room in hopes that it would allow the fresh air in. the two victors checked their surrounding to make sure one man didnt get away or sneak off to hide. They both coughed for quite some time, but neither thought it was a good idea to leave the room quite yet.

"You okay?" Steve asked breathlessly lookng at the slew of exactly 11 dead men.

"Yea, you?" She was standing on top of her now destroyed bed. Feathers and dust floating in the air from shot up pillows.

The man who was barking order at the rest of the now dead men tried to sit up. His hair was graying and he had a dark mustache. He coughed wildly while choking on some blood. Steve knelt down beside him and helped sit him up with his back to the broken door.

"Who sent you?" Steve asked forcefully. "Who are you?"

The man just smiled with blood in his teeth. "His name is Арсений." Natasha said without looking at Steve. She just stood there glaring at this man who lay dying but still smug like he had won the big prize at the local carnival.

Steve looked confused at his partner. "Arseny" she clarified, "Thats his name."

"You made a mistake Natalia coming back here." he looked at her without turning his neck, probably due to the fact that some part of it was most likely broken. He wheezed for air as he spoke some more. "He knew you were here the moment your jet landed in that field. And he has known every other time you have come back to this country."

She knelt beside Steve so that she was sitting right in front of this man. "Who are you working for Арсений. Who knows we are here?" she demanded from this man the information as if she could threaten him any more to obtain it. She took out her pistol and pointed it at his forehead.

"Nat, I don't think thats a goo-"

"Don't call me that." She sounded stern and Steve backed off but did not move away.

[["Last chance Arseny."]] her face was expressionless. As if she was once again made of stone. She was so hard to read at times, especially at times like this. She spoke Russian so perfectly, Steve would almost call it beautiful, if the circumstances were changed.

The man let out another ragged cough. "Have you forgotten your past my dear?" another cough, "You were never forgotten here. And this man that took you from us?" he weakly pointed at Steve, [["will die just as you will."]]

Natasha looked almost regretful, "You use to be a kind man." and shot him in the head.

The two partners "borrowed" a car so they could have some decent milage between the crime scene and their next location. They thought it would be good to lay low for the next few hours and get cleaned up to continue on their mission. "Nat? Uh I mean Natasha?" Steve stammered. He was driving an old beat up car with a brand that he did not recognize. Both had stayed silent for the majority of the evacuation.

She didnt acknowledge his voice, just stared out of the car window. It was cold in the car. They could see their breath, but the heater had been broken for probably years. He continued to speak anyway.

"What was that all about?" his voice was calm once again.

She still was not talking. She heard his concern, but chose to ignore it.

"Should we terminate this mission?" she looked at him now in surprise.

"What? No Steve its fine. Really, no need to be extreme."

"Extreme? He said someone has been keeping tabs on you and threatened to kill us both and we don't even know who he is."

She looked out the window once more. The sun was shining over the not so distant mountains and it was about 7 in the morning. It was still snowing, but not as bad, which was good to help cover their track from anyone who was following them.

"Do you have any idea who it could be? We need to find this guy" his voice took on that same old captain like voice. That one that sounds like he could take charge of the world if he wanted to.

"No Steve, we were sent here on our mission, that is what we are going to do. Complete our mission." they sat in silence for a couple minutes. She knew that would shut him up because it was not very Captain America of him to not complete a mission.

Even though they won that fight with ease, it had been a couple hours and they were both starting to feel the drag that always follows after a fight. Steve was healing quite well, with just a couple scratches that use to be bullet grazes. He noticed Natasha had a cut on her cheek and a cut on her thigh from what looked like a knife. He had was covering the majority of the cut, but it was still bleeding. How long had it bled for? It had been a couple hours since the fight. How long was she going to go without saying anything to him? They were quite the sight sitting in this too small of a car, both still in their pajamas, and bruised and bleeding. Steve pulled the car over when he saw a small gas station. He drove around the back till he found the bathrooms.

"Have to use the bathroom again old man? You know they make medication for that now." She laughed at herself and instantly regretted it because she ripped her lip open again which caused it to start bleeding once more.

"You know what Romanoff?" He glared at her with a small smile as he got out of the car and turned around to look at her. "I could keep driving and let you bleed out all over the car if you like. Come on, we both need to get cleaned up."

He walked around to her side of the car and opened her door for her. It was still early so no one was really at the station which was nice and gave them some privacy. The bathroom was gross to say the least. Yellow tiny tile lined the floor and graffiti covered the walls and parts of the ceiling. The mirrors were engraved in weird Russian slangs, one word in particular made Natasha laugh. Steve didn't recognize it, but he didn't think he wanted to ask. He brought in his bag of soap and tooth paste and set in on the wall length counter top. He then began to rip off strips of paper towels from the dispenser and lined a section of the counter with them. "Here, take a seat." he pointed at the make shift doctors bed.

She let out a small laugh splitting her lip again, causing her to curse in Russian. "Really Rogers? Its really not that bad, it'll stop bleeding in a little bit, its just barely deep."

"Natasha, you look terrible. Sit up here and let me help you out." he patted to table top once more and began washing his hands.

She sighed and sat up on top of the counter with more of a struggle than she wanted to show.

He began silently working on he leg. Cleaning it, stitching it, and dressing it. It finally stopped bleeding and to Natashas surprise, the pain she was hiding seemed to almost disappear. Steve washed the blood off his hands and began soaping up a rag to let her freshen up. He handed it to her and asked once more, "What was that all about back there?"

She took the rag fro him and started dabbing the excess blood away from her face and arms. She did this in silence for a couple seconds. She stopped only to meet his eyes. Those gorgeous blue eyes. His face was also dirty and stuck with dried blood from cuts that were no more than faint pink lines. He had that same look of concern on his face as he waited patently for her answer. "I grew up here."

"Yea I know. But that wasn't what I would call a welcome home party."

She smiled and looked down. "No I suppose it wasn't..." she took another minute to figure out how to explain herself. "My upbringing wasn't what you would call _ideal._ I was brainwashed and forced to be an assassin. I was taken in by a group called the KGB and experimented on. I was one of the only two survivors out of 23 other participants. Instead of forcing me and the other survivor to kill each other as they did with the unfortunate 23 souls, they decided to keep us both. They said that we accomplished our goals and that we would be rewarded, but instead, we went though even more torturous training than we did as a large group." she looked lost. Her eyes were again distant and glazed. She was not remembering a good memory. "I knew even back then that what I was doing was wrong. Physically I obeyed my trainer and killed whoever they told me to kill. Steal whatever they needed me to steal. But my head knew better. It was like I was never given the option to stop therefore I could not stop. I was 8 years old when I killed my first person. That person was a younger aged woman about 24. She was assigned to care for us kids. Food, water, bandages. Whatever we needed. Her name was Anna. My trainers thought she was giving me special attention and that I was growing too attached to her. So one day around 5 am, they grabbed me from my bed and escorted me to the fighting ring. Anna was sitting there on her knees bleeding. She knew what I was there to do, yet she showed no signs of stress. She even smiled at me." Natasha allowed her eyes to fill with tears, but never allowing one to fall. " I didn't want to hurt her, she was good to me. But before I could think otherwise, they triggered the killer they instilled in me. It was like a light switch. One moment I was trying to run away, and the other I was standing over her lifeless body."

Steve sat in silence. He looked down for the majority of the story as if it was too much to hear, but still wanted to hear it. "That wasn't your fault Nat. They made you do it."

She smiled a small smile towards him and they stared eye to eye. "I was on a mission one night about 8 years ago when I ran into Clint. I was supposed to be sneaking into a warehouse to gather information on some very expensive weapon trading and smuggling. My boss wanted to take the goods for himself and take out anyone in his way. So he sent me and my partner at the time. I was walking along the roof top at night just before starting our plan of attack. Clint dropped down and ruined that of course. We fought for quite some time, both pretty equally matched. When I heard that familiar word in my ear piece. I turned into that killing machine and started beating Barton to a pulp. He used his explosive arrows but missed, back then I thought it was because he sucked at aiming, but now I understand that he was trying to distract me. It worked. I took my eye off him for one second, and he had the jump on me. In my head, I didn't want to hurt him. He kept pleading with me to stop and talk to him, and he never hurt me. I wanted to listen but I couldn't. I was triggered. When I caught sight of him, he smacked me in the head and I lost consciousness for a couple minutes." She now had no tears rimming her eyes. She still sat on top of the counter looking much less pale now that she was keeping her blood in her body.

"Clint knocked you out?" Steve sounded shocked that he would ever lay a harmful hand on Natasha, brainwashed or not.

"Yea, I needed it. It broke me out of that tortuous gap. When I woke up, clint was still there. I had a cut on my forehead, see you can see the scar still." She pulled her fiery red hair back a exposed a small scar in her hair line that he would have never seen if she hadn't shown him. He secretly wondered how many scars both physical and emotional she had hidden. "He had given me a tissue to wipe the blood out of my eyes but I never took it. He was younger then, skinny too. Its amazing what 8 years can do to the body in this line of work. Anyway, he sat on the roof with me and asked me to go with him back to America. He explained that he was supposed to put an arrow in my head, but decided against it. I didnt know what to do. Again, I had never had the option to get out of the position I was given. I was hesitant, but I could tell clint was a good guy. After all, he didn't kill me, and I had a feeling when we fought that he is skilled enough to do it if he wanted. But he didn't. He chose against it where I had to do what I was told all the time. Clint gave me two choices that day. I could choose to attack him again and go for the kill, or I could go back to his home country with him. Two different choices were more than I was given in my whole life at the time. The entire time I could hear my partner yelling for back up in my ear piece. So I made the first decision I had ever made. I took out my ear piece and threw it off the roof, and shook the hand of an american stranger."

"Thats an amazing first meeting for you two." he laughed that amazing Steve Rogers laugh.

"Yea, you wouldnt expect it to go any other way huh?" she joined his laughter.

"But it doesnt really explain why these people are after us. Is it because you just left?"

"Well as I was on the roof that night, literally in the middle of shaking this mans hand who at the time, I did not know his name... my partner cam crashing through the stairwell doors. He was bleeding and completely enraged. He was coming to find me after I did not respond to his distress calls. Me and Clint both looked at the same time at this man who looked like he was going to kill us both. And easily too. His name was Alexi. He had black hair and was built like a house. He saw us shaking hands and immediately started in for the kill. Durring our talk, Alexi must have exploded something, or maybe the fire was started by one of Clints arrows. Im not sure... the warehouse roof started burning up from the raging fire below us. Ir was hard to see, and we couldn't breathe. Alexi was doing a pretty good number on us both, all while yelling things about me being a traitor and how I will suffer before I die by his hands alone." Natasha waved her hand in the air like Alexi was being over dramatic and his words were no big deal. "He had a knife out and he was about to make the killing shot for Clint. But before he could, I shot him. In the back. He stopped with the blade in mid air and turned towards me. Alexi was a strong man. Stronger than the usual guy. He started towards me as if Clint no longer existed. He looked dead already as he layed motionless where Alexi left him. The flames were on top of the roof at that point and we all needed to get out of there before we all fell through. Alexi started running at me with hi blade ready, and I tried to shoot him, but I was out of bullets. So I accepted my fate in a matter of 3 seconds. I was ready to die. Thats when I heard two more gun shots. I looked at Alexi and he stood wide eyed looking at me. And a couple moments later, he fell off the side of the roof to his death. When I looked to find the shooter, I saw a beaten and bloodied Clint Barton holding his rib cage with one hand and a smoking gun in the other. He holstered his gun and held out a hand to help me stand up."

"Wait, a burning warehouse? Rib cage? This is the story you told me earlier isnt it?" Steve was like a child who figured out a big secret.

"Yes, its the same one. Clint took no time to see if I would even follow him off that roof. It was a new thing for me to have the kind of trust that he just so willingly gave to me. I decided to follow. I watched as he made sure the building was clear. He was very impressive that night. But my mission was destroyed. My partner was dead. And my boss was very _very_ upset. I knew he had witnessed everything and I knew from that moment on that I would never be safe in this country again. I have never come back here without Clint."

okay, I know I made some of that stuff up and character names etc.

I still do not own anything.

Im making it up as I go!


	4. Chapter 4

I do not own anything Marvel.

Sorry about the slow update, Ive been pretty busy!

Chapter 4.

They arrived at a small village quite a few hours away from their original point. Just outside the village was a safe house where they would be heading to once they gather supplies from the local stores. The bath they took in the gas station sink helped them both feel a whole lot better. They had extra clothes still packed so they weren't covered in blood and dirt from their fight. To be honest, aside from Natasha's split lip and her not so very well hidden limp, and his dirty hair and the slight bruise on his head; they looked pretty normal.

The village was small. Like the last one, there weren't many people. There was still quite a bit of snow on the ground, but the sky was bright and sunny. Steve had on a pair of regular jeans, sweater, and some work boots. Natasha suggested he wear a hat or beanie but he thought she would need it to cover her red hair. Natasha was also wearing dark jeans, boots a long sleeve black and white striped hoodie and a pete coat, and now a black beanie that was a bit large. As they walked through the town to the store, she looped her arm through Steves so the limp would be less noticeable.

They entered a store and put on the same fake identities that they were originally set off to take. They slowly made their way through the store selecting their items an tossing them into the basket. Snacks, soaps, and of course: a first aid kit. The next store they went to they picked out some extra socks, water, and yes, another first aid kit. They figured that if they bought their items in different stores, they would draw less attention to themselves. But no one here seemed to pay them any mind.

They set off to the safe house located in the woods almost 30 minutes away from the small town. The house was dark. They kept the lights low so to not attract any unwanted parties. It was a cabin. Decorated in the typical cabin-like attire: antlers on the walls, lamps for lights, and to tie it all together- a fur rug under the coffee table. It was only one bedroom but had a pretty good sized kitchen and front room. Natasha felt relaxed. It reminded her of a safe place which she missed. She sat on the couch and pulled the small blanket from the couch over her shoulders. The two hadn't really spoken since the store. The sun was hanging a little lower now and Steve was making food in the kitchen.

"Hey." Steve finally said. She almost didn't hear it over the pot banging around. She turned around to face him without saying anything. "Why don't you go jump in the shower and wash up. I'll finish up dinner." He was looking at her with easy eyes. He was mixing something in a pot. There was a towel slung over his shoulder as if he was a chef. Steve was wearing just a t shirt and jeans now because the cabin was much warmer now that he was cooking. She didn't know what he was making, but whatever it was smelled wonderful. She let him have free range of the kitchen because she really didn't know much about cooking. She was trained to survive. Put her in the middle of a deserted island, and she could survive for years; but put her in a kitchen and she could maybe find her way around some packaged meal like mac and cheese.

"Yea, okay." She smiled at Steve and he would be lying if he said she wasn't beautiful. "A shower that isn't from a gas station sink does sound pretty good right about now." She let out a small laugh. Her body ached when she stood up.

Steve noticed how well she was trying to hide her limp. She would never show weakness, even in the safety of her partner. "You okay?" he called from the kitchen when she made it slowly down the hall.

"You worry too much Rogers." She rounded the corner to the bathroom and turned on the shower. She looked at herself in the mirror and to her surprise, didn't look as bad as she felt. Natasha slowly struggled out of her clothes. She had a split lip that seemed to be healing pretty well, and a couple bruises here and there. Even her leg didn't hurt that bad. She had had much worse. Steve had done a pretty good job with the stitches too. There probably wouldn't even be a scar. The physical pain was nothing compared to what was going on in her head. _Alexi._ Her mind wandered back to that place she hasn't dared to go since she left with the blond American man all those years ago. When she saw herself in the reflection, she didn't see Natasha. She saw someone else. Same hair. Same face. But not _hers._ It was a face of a ghost. _Natalia._ The steam from the shower looked like smoke. It was hot. She was suddenly back on that burning rooftop. _"Traitor!"_ she could hear Alexi as if he was still right in front of her. Charging at her. Raising his gun to point it at her face. His eyes burning with rage. His voice filled with hatred. The gun went off. Three times.

She jumped a little. It wasn't a gun. She was still in the bathroom. It was a knock from the other side of the door. Steve. She let out a breath. The knock came again. "Natasha? Dinner is almost ready. You okay in there?" She realized if she did not answer something, then he would barge right in and she was standing there completely undressed. "Nat?"

"Okay, Thanks Steve. I'm fine." She had only just then realized that she had been in there for who knows how long. And she let the water run and hadn't even gotten in yet. "I'm just finishing up, i'll be out in a minute."

She wiped off the mirror to look at her reflection once more. _Natasha._ She relaxed a little. _Not Natalia._

 _Natasha._

Steve had seen how tired Natasha was. She was drained emotionally and physically. She had been sitting on the couch covered in a small dusty blanket while Steve had been making their dinner for the last half hour or so.

He suggested her to go take a shower, which to his relief- she agreed without a fight. She hobbled to the bathroom and he heard the water start running. He couldn't help but worry about her. He knew that they hadn't been partners all that long, and he knew without a doubt that she would kick his butt if she knew he was concerned.

The man who threatened them both at the hotel the night before knew her. Knew her very well. _"You were never forgotten here."_ what did that mean? How had the two best agents never known that they were being watched every time they came to this country? Steve had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that had not gone away since they left the hotel. The man, Arseny, said something about Steve taking Natasha away from him? That couldn't be right. Steve had barely met Natasha not that long ago. Barton. Arseny thought he was Clint. The two did have some similar characteristics. Blond hair. Muscular stature. And Natasha never came back to Russia without Clint.

Steve set the small table with two plates and some silverwear before returning to the stove to continue stirring multiple pots. His mind had wandered off for no more than ten minutes he assumed because his masterpiece was not burnt. As he was about to dish up the plates, he decided to check up on his partner.

He let her know that dinner was just about done and went back to finish the final preparations on the meal. His mind went back to the hotel where Arseny sat talking to Natasha. Steve wasn't totally fluent in the Russian language, but he understood some words. One of those word happened to be "die". He didn't know the exact statement the old man had said to Natasha, but Steve knew it had something to do with him (or who the man thought was Barton) and Natasha and death. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out.

Natasha padded out of the bathroom looking much better than when she went in. Steve immediately snapped out of his trance to stare at the woman. She was in pajama pants and a tight fitting tank top. Her hair was now dirt free and hanging in loose wet ringlets just above her shoulders. The split lip she had earlier today was almost unnoticeable. He couldnt tell if it was her trained inner spy that allowed her to compose herself in a way that seemed as if the day was just another beautiful day in paradise, or if she really was that relaxed after her shower. He hoped the latter.

"Hey, glad you decided to join me." Steve chuckled at her grabbing her empty plate off the table. "Here I didn't get the chance to dish your plate up for you."

She smiled at him with that smile. "Thanks Rogers, but Im a big girl, I can serve myself." She took the plate from him. "Whats on the menu tonight?"

"I made some chicken soup, potatoes, and some garlic bread."

Natasha couldn't help the smile on her face from hearing how proud he was of his dinner. She had to admit that it smelled delicious and she was starving.

After eating, they both decided to sleep. Steve on the couch and Natasha on the only bed, of course. But Natasha couldn't sleep. Her mind would not turn off. " _He knew you were here the moment your jet landed in that field. And he has known every other time you have come back to this country."_ His word echoed in her mind over and over again until she couldn't take it any longer.

Her phone buzzed.

She jolted up out of bed and pointed her hidden gun around the room in panic. Once she understood that she was safe, she realized the cause of the noise. _Clint._

" _Hey Nat, I haven't heard from you. Its been a day already."_

" _Hey sorry Barton, Its been a crazy first day."_ She quietly typed back.

" _Whats going on? Need evac?"_

" _No, there is a slight bump in the road. I hope I can still get out of here in the next couple days."_ Or at all she silently thought.

She didn't know how to tell him. She knew he would help, but she also knew he would worry. She hated when he worried.

" _Whats wrong Nat."_ Its just like him to know _every_ time she felt upset or not okay. And being an assassin or – spy, has taught her many things. One of which being that tomorrow may never come. Natasha was never one for sentimental lovey type of conversations. But she did believe in regret. She knew without a doubt that if she were to be killed by whoever was following her and Steve, That he would blame himself. She knew that there was probably nothing Barton could do from where he was at. But he did deserve the truth. _"Nat."_

" _I Think Alexi is alive."_ she pressed send before she had a second thought. Her fingers were shaking and she waited for his response.

" _Im calling Fury. We can be there in the morning with evac."_ was all he sent.

She smiled at his text. She couldn't run away from this. She needed to settle this. It was her past. Her life. _Alexi._ He wanted her dead. She turned her back on him. She never truly believed Alexi was truly dead. He was an animal. She had seen him go through much worse then being shot in the back. The Red Room had given him doses of the super soldier serum and it helped him. Not as much as Steve of course. But it definitely helped him. He could heal. Very quickly. And he was strong, but Steve was stronger. She knew that. Or did she? Maybe it was meant to be that Rogers ended up with her on this mission instead of Clint. Maybe she needed Steve on this one. _"No really clint I'm fine. I can handle this."_

" _Nat this is crazy, you need to come home."_

" _I've got this clint. Steve is here to help out. We are safe."_

Natasha and clint both new better than to say where exactly they were via phone calls or texts because anyone may be listening in, and from what Arseny had told her, there _was_ someone listening. Watching possibly even now. Natasha knew Clint would piece together that they were in a safe house. SHIELD and only SHIELD knew where the safe houses were located in the area.

" _If I don't hear from you tomorrow I'm coming to make sure you're alive and to personally kick your ass myself Romanoff."_

" _Yes sir."_ deep down Natasha knew that this was crazy. To continue a mission knowing people are tracking you and you are left in the dark. Not knowing if the person behind the counter at the store was reporting your location to someone else.

" _Be safe nat."_

" _Always."_ Yes believing Alexi is still alive is far fetched, but it is the only reasonable explanation. He may be following her every move, but he apparently has been doing it for some time now and has never made a move. _"You made a mistake Natalia, coming back here."_ Arseny had a voice that could stay with someone forever.

Once she closed her phone and set it back on the table. She laid back down on the stern bed. She stared up at the wood ceiling and zoned out. She felt somewhat better about telling Barton about her current situation. She no longer felt as though Arseny had spooked her as much as he had attempted to do. If Alexi was alive, then she would fight. She would fight for the person she is now. She would fight against the person she was back then. _"You made a mistake,"_ a mistake? Coming back to Russia? Maybe Natalia did make a mistake returning to her home country. But the Black Widow? She does not make mistakes. Natasha Romanoff does not shy away from a fight. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
